

Light snow on Sunday, followed by a weak showing Monday, leading to a pale cold covering overall left throughout the night. Tuesday, no way I had school in mind, called in sick at six and hit the hay again, until just a few before noon.
The snow left a place for footprints; the foot trails told of walks in the snow. Kids were out, sledding down any hill. Every slope in Deep Cove had, if not kids slipping on sleds downwards, the tell-tale tracks of that activity. We walked further then the lazy young sledders did, up hill, and under frosted trees, to a quarry stone left sentinel to watch over our bay. This Tuesday it wasn't watching; it was hidden from view, clouded like I have never seen it before. On top were four men waiting for us, waiting for the sun, as all of their race do.